Turnabout: Chronicles of a Matchmaking Badass
by vcg73
Summary: Kurt decides to force a couple of closet-cases into the light. Sequel to DJ-DizzyD's "Wingman" but don't let that scare you away if you haven't read it. :D
1. Chapter 1

This is a sequel requested by DJ-DizzyD to her story "WingMan". If you haven't read it, here's the gist: Puck requests a helping hand to impress a new girl in school named Gage who does not like bad ass jock types. Kurt, in a stroke of pure insanity, decides to reinvent himself as a BAMF (bad-ass-mo-fo), quitting Glee, dressing like a tough guy, and verbally abusing anyone who stands still long enough, just to prove what a great guy Puck is by comparison. Unfortunately, Kurt also turns out to have a "sleeping giant" mode and when pushed too far, goes berserker during a fist fight with Puck, which gets him a week's suspension from school and accidentally solidifies his bad reputation. Eventually, the truth comes out and Gage and Puck forgive Kurt's weird antics, but he finds out that reputation damage does not go away quite so easily. Kurt decides to enjoy his new status and as he also brags about what a great matchmaker he is, Puck and Gage challenge him with a $300 + makeover bet to get another couple together within the week.

And that brings us to this story!

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Getting ready for school on Tuesday morning was a distinct pleasure. After five solid school days of nothing but v-necked T's, loose (well, for him anyway) jeans and carefully-styled-to-look-messy hair, the latest and greatest of all McKinley High BAMFs was going back to looking like his old – and entirely fabulous - self. Kurt was just thankful that there was no Cheerios practice scheduled today. Spending a week simultaneously playing the roles of HBIC and BAMF had been distinctly uncomfortable, as if he were standing on a platform in the middle of a public hallway, simultaneously doing handstands and jerking off. It had been exhausting and kind of embarrassing. He was looking forward to having both his friends and a certain degree of anonymity back.

He had risen from bed an hour early today, wanting to take his sweet time getting ready, making sure that everything was perfect. He started with a long, hot shower using his favorite scents of moisturizing shampoo, damage treating conditioner and exfoliating body wash. Normally, he shaved away any trace of morning stubble while still in the shower – though he had experimentally left his weekend scruff in evidence on Monday for that extra dash of badassedness – but today he shut off the water and dried his skin, wrapping his hips in the towel before treating his face with a special deep-pore scrub, followed by a careful, leisurely shave, paying minute attention to every inch of jaw, chin, lip and neck to insure that not a single whisker remained to upset the balance of his perfect porcelain skin. The first layer of moisturizer followed next.

Satisfied with his face, Kurt brushed his teeth and then moved on to his hair. It could really use a trim, he thought unhappily, twirling the end of one thick lock around his fingertip. Impressively mussed was simpler with longish hair, but it really didn't suit his preferred level of elegance. Ah well, he would just have to add an appointment with his stylist as part of the weekend pampering marathon he had promised Gage, and later invited Mercedes and Tina to participate in, as an apology for being publicly rude to them all last week. For now, brushing his hair back and adding a little extra volumizer at the top would do the trick, drawing attention to his face and away from his slightly wild coif.

After adding the second application of moisturizer, he opted for a bit of mascara, plus a thin stroke of brown eyeliner beneath his lower lashes. He also added a slightly rosier than normal shade of lip gloss, a brand that Santana Lopez had recommended. It made his lips look plump and wonderfully kissable, though that invitation would sadly go ignored if today was anything like normal.

Puckering his lips at his own reflection, Kurt gave himself a wink. "Silly boys. They just don't know what they're missing, do they?"

Laughing at his own silly impulse, he walked into his bedroom and stood before the closet as he carefully considered what to wear. Part of him had been sorry to lose Finn as a roommate when Burt Hummel had finished the addition to their house, presenting the other boy with his own room upstairs, but another part had been happy to have his space and privacy back. Kurt had never paraded around his room in just a towel while Finn was here, and he rather enjoyed the freedom.

What could he wear that was totally chic, totally drool-worthy, and yet appropriately bad-ass? For he had not been lying to Gage and Puck yesterday when he had told them that he'd like to keep his new reputation intact for awhile. It was strange but gratifying to be treated with respect, to have no fear of slushies and dumpsters and hurtful name-calling for the first time in memory. He could not look _too_ unapproachable, however, for he had a lot of apologies to make. All of his friends probably knew the truth behind his rude and crude behavior by now if Mercedes, Tina, Finn and Puck could be trusted to have spread the word, but he wanted to officially apologize to them anyway. And Mr. Schuester would definitely deserve a tiny bit of groveling and a request to let Kurt back into the glee-club after the cruel things he had said on Thursday.

He considered for a moment whether he also wanted to apologize for bullying the nerds and decided against it. Most of them had deserved it. Jacob Ben Israel in particular. He was actually tempted to slushie the annoying reporter again, just for the fun of it. Plus, single handedly dumpster-diving David Karofsky had earned him the respect of the entire football _and_ hockey teams. No way was he messing with _that_ result.

Kurt could not stifle a giggle at the memory of Karofsky's face when he had found himself transformed from predator to prey last week. It had been ridiculously easy, too. So easy, in fact, that Kurt wished he had been brave enough to try it years ago. All he'd had to do was wait until the big oaf lunged at him, then ducked under his grasp, grabbed the hockey player's bent knee and heaved with all his considerable strength. The idiot jock had screeched like a little girl when he abruptly found himself sailing head-first into the garbage heap. And it had been tuna surprise day in the cafeteria. Kurt had never felt so self-satisfied as in that moment when he had seen the bully's red face smeared in nasty coagulated fish paste and pasta. All Kurt had needed to do to cow the rest of the waiting jocks was loudly crack his knuckles – a disgusting habit of his father's – and demand to know who was next. They had taken off running like scared rabbits.

He sighed happily over the memory, humming a note of pure delight as his questing fingers landed on the perfect selection as they carded through his wardrobe. The fitted black muscle-shirt with the cap sleeves, the one he hardly ever wore because Mercedes had teased him about needing to go buy some muscles to accessorize it with. Kurt flexed his biceps and smiled. A few months with the Cheerios had taken care of that little problem. All bad-asses had "killer guns" according to Puck and he felt smugly certain that his own, though considerably leaner than the other boy's, could now claim that title without a problem. Why not show them off?

A thin, copper-lamé vest with gorgeous whorls of bronze subtly woven throughout the pattern would set the shirt off admirably and the top would be perfect with the tight red skinny jeans he had last worn for New Directions' funky face-off against Vocal Adrenaline last year. Those pants were cut just-so and Kurt knew that they framed his ass and outlined his junk like no other pants he had ever worn. He could still remember the slightly horrified look on his dad's face the first time he had tried them on at home, and the girls in Glee not-so-subtly checking him out. Perfect.

The choice of pants also informed his choice of underwear. Nothing larger than a thong could possibly be worn with those sinfully tight pants without giving him visible panty lines, something that simply would not do. It was butt-floss or commando. Kurt considered the problem for a split-second before opting for the latter. The very idea made him feel simultaneously tough and sexy.

Socks and the adorable little copper granny-boots that _just_ matched the shading in his vest completed the outfit. Minutes later, Kurt stood admiring his beautiful stylish self in the mirror. The population of WMHS would eat its heart out over him today.

Now it was time for those apologies, and the winning of a very lucrative bet.

He had approached Karofsky and Azimio yesterday, telling them he had a plan that he needed their help with, but he would not give them details. Both jocks were hesitant to agree but even more reluctant to mess with him right now. Kurt had decided to give curiosity a little time to drive them crazy before revealing his new master plan. He was absolutely certain that the pair was secretly hot for each other, but he wanted to do this properly. After all, they would certainly be resistant to outing themselves to the whole school, in spite of the rumor he had already spread about them, but it would eventually happen. Those two were just _way_ too wrapped up in cliché level denial to be anything but super-gay for each other.

If everything went according to plan, Kurt would soon have his former enemies living in public homosexual bliss. He would be free of daily torment for the rest of his high school life, _and_ he would no longer bear the stigma of being the only gay kid at McKinley. And he would have done it all with nothing more than his own indomitable will and his amazing accessorizing skill – which apparently worked even more powerfully when applied to human beings!

What could possibly be more bad-ass than that?


	2. Chapter 2

As Kurt parked his Navigator in the student lot, he noticed half a dozen jocks standing near the dumpsters. Dave Karofsky and one of the football players, Miguel something-or-other, stood at the head of the line, some hapless loser already gripped in their meaty paws; a pack of predators ready to feast on some easy prey.

Kurt sighed, recognizing the terror in the kid's trembling mouth and tearing eyes all too well. A freshman, he was sure. By the time sophomore year rolled around, resignation would have settled in and the kid would have learned not to show his fears so openly in the hope that he would seem a less appealing target. Not that it would work.

His earlier decision to let the other nerds fend for themselves abruptly vanished. Kurt had been in that poor boy's position far too many times, and what was the point of having the reputation power of being a badass – however temporary that title might be – if he was too afraid to use it?

"Put him down," he said firmly, setting down his messenger bag and striding toward the slavering hyenas and their victim with more confidence than he really felt. This could easily backfire and end up with him in the garbage right along with antelope-boy. "On the ground . . . gently."

Hope leapt into the small boy's streaming brown eyes and Kurt's gut clenched. Damn. How many times had he worn that look himself, only to have his hope of rescue dashed when it turned out that his would-be savior had only come to watch the entertainment? A flash of white-hot resentment toward Finn Hudson suddenly flared through Kurt, and he realized that the feeling must have shown in his eyes when a couple of the jocks unexpectedly backed off, holding up their hands in supplication as they murmured excuses about being late for first period and left.

The two remaining henchmen looked a bit doubtful when their comrades disappeared. Like all bullies, they obviously preferred the strength of numbers.

"Parker," Kurt said, addressing the goon on the left without taking his narrowed eyes off of Miguel and Karofsky. "How's the Shakespeare coming? Did those notes I wrote out for you help you figure out what was going on?"

The somewhat dim-witted blond jock smiled. "Yeah, I'm really getting it now!"

"Glad to hear it. Why don't you go to your locker and study them some more? You know Mr. Curtis and his love of pop quizzes. I wouldn't be surprised if we got one today."

They had been on the football team together last year and the other boy had strongly reminded Kurt of a male version of Brittany. Not a bad guy, just very easily led by stronger influences. Discovering that they shared the same English class this year had allowed him to put a few chinks in the armor. Surprise and dismay instantly popped into Parker's large, vacant-looking blue eyes. "Oh, shoot, you think so?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Hey, I gotta go," he decided, grabbing the backpack at his feet and taking off, yelling, "Bye, guys. See you at lunch!"

Karofsky and his helper were staring at Kurt, open-mouthed, the freshman still dangling between them. Azimio did not appear so easily distracted. He scowled at Kurt and took a menacing step forward.

"Nice work, faggot," he spat. "You think you got everybody fooled, but you beating up on Puck a couple weeks ago ain't so impressive any more. Everybody knows he's lost his edge ever since he became part of that stupid singing group. My baby sister could probably kick his ass now. Let's see how you do against a real man."

Oh, crap. Greg Azimio was twice his size and clearly no longer intimidated by a newfound BAMF rep. The behemoth advanced on Kurt, pulling his dragging knuckles off the ground long enough to crack them menacingly. What was worse, a number of other students had suddenly gathered around, drawn by the magnetic pull of a possible fight.

Arms apparently getting tired, Karofsky set his little freshman back on his feet, but yanked the boy closer with a muscle-bound arm around his neck. He was obviously intent on keeping his victim close by once the entertainment of watching Kurt get pulverized was over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Puck, Gage and Mike join the crowd. "Hey, guys," he greeted, fighting to keep his voice calm and even.

"You need some backup, Hummel?" Puck asked, arm slung casually around the shoulders of his new girlfriend. They had not actually gone out on their first date yet, but at moments like this it was important to show people that the Puckosaurus had a new babe on the leash.

For all Gage's open dislike of testosterone-fueled bad-boy antics, she apparently understood this need for show, for she simply leaned in to Puck and added, "I'd be happy to dribble this fool's head into the nearest basketball hoop for you."

Mike said nothing, but he stepped forward and crossed his arms, letting his actions speak for him.

Kurt could not help smiling. It was nice to be part of a genuine brother/sisterhood after so many years of standing alone, and while Glee was hardly the most intimidating group in school, their loyalty to one another now went without question. "No thanks, I got this," he said, surprising himself a little. "Just don't let the other two join in the party without an invitation. My dance-card looks pretty full at the moment."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Karofsky demanded. "This isn't some faggy social event! I ought to have your ass for saying that."

"Wait your turn, Brokeback. I'm not into threesomes," Kurt snapped, inciting giggles from a number of onlookers.

Trusting his friends to keep the big hockey-player off his back, Kurt concentrated on Azimio. The larger boy's eyes were sweeping up and down his frame, taking in the details of his outfit, a curl of contempt lifting his lip.

"What's up, Gregory? You going to make a move or is this just the excuse you needed to check out my package at close range?"

Much to his surprise, all three of the jocks and a few of the onlookers flushed scarlet and averted their eyes. Christ, exactly how many closet-queers did they _have_ at this school?

Eyes widening, Kurt barely stifled a yelp of fear when his opponent suddenly aimed his shoulder down and charged at him. Kurt had been a kicker, not a tackle, but he easily recognized the move. Ducking under the huge jock, Kurt managed to miss the shoulder-block and get his back under the other boy's mid-section. Center of gravity on his side, he heaved up, throwing Azimio into the air like a cowboy off a bucking bronco.

Unfortunately, Azimio was as good at taking a hit as he was in doling them out. He spun and grabbed Kurt from behind, wrapping both beefy arms around his small frame and squeezing. "What are you gonna do now, Fairy Queen?"

"What I do best," he fired back. "Sing."

"_What_?"

Snapping his head and right elbow back as hard as he could, Kurt stomped down on Azimio's instep with the hard heel of his granny boot. The jock howled in pain and grabbed his injured nose, hopping on one foot. His grip had loosened when Kurt elbowed him in the gut and Kurt took advantage of it. Spinning around, he kneed his opponent hard in the crotch.

Azimio crashed to the ground like a felled oak tree, a pathetic whimpering his only sound as he clutched his bleeding nose with one hand and his mashed nuts with the other.

_Thank you, Sandra Bullock,_ Kurt thought smugly, reflecting that he really needed to ask Mercedes to bring her copy of **Miss Congeniality** to their next sleep-over. Noting the astonished expressions on his friends' faces, he smiled and sang, "Solar-plexus, Instep, Nose, Groin."

Gage burst out laughing, clearly getting it, while Mike and Puck just looked at each other and shrugged in confusion. "Whatever works for you, dude," Puck told him.

Returning his attention to Karofsky, who now looked more concerned for his fallen comrade than interested in harassing dweebs, Kurt glared at Miguel. "You want to put your balls on the kickstand next, Pujols?" he asked, remembering the other boy's surname. "I promise you, I can get them through the uprights with no problem whatsoever."

Miguel, like Azimio and Parker, had been on the Titans football team last year. Letting go of the freshman, he said, "No way, man. We're cool." He actually grinned at Kurt with a friendliness he had never demonstrated before, punching him lightly in the arm as he walked away. "We're definitely cool."

Kurt smiled back, unable to stop himself, then turned and glared once more at Karofsky. Sweeping his fingers through his hair to insure that Azimio had not got blood, spit or any other nasty substances in it, Kurt drew himself up and placed a hand on his hip. "Let. Him. Go."

"What?" Karofsky glanced at the freshman, who was now staring at Kurt like he had hung the moon. "Oh, I forgot you were here, kid. Get the hell out of my sight."

The boy did not waste his reprieve, scuttling away with one last adoring look at Kurt. Seeing that the excitement was over, the crowd dispersed as the first period warning bell rang.

"You okay, Kurt?" Mike asked, helping Azimio to his feet and brushing him off like the all around good guy that he was.

"I'm fine, guys. Thanks for backing me up. I'll see you in a few minutes."

They had Glee first period this year. It did not matter if Kurt was a little bit late for it. He needed to make an entrance in order to publicly apologize and request reinstatement anyway.

Somewhat reluctantly, Puck, Mike and Gage left the scene, perhaps realizing that Kurt wanted a moment alone with the two bullies.

"I thought we agreed this was going to stop," Kurt said to Karofsky as soon as his friends were out of earshot.

Karofsky scowled and moved to Azimio's side. "You okay, dude?"

He grunted and gave a nod, still pressing a hand to his damaged 'boys'. "Never knew you had it in you, Hummel," he growled in a grudging but unexpectedly respectful tone.

"I didn't want to do that, but you left me no choice," Kurt returned, lifting his nose in the air in a show of disdain. "You two may be too cowardly to be out, like I am, and I can understand that but it doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to harass and intimidate me, or people like me, just to show everyone else how _manly_ you are. Not any more."

"Will you quit it with the homo shit?" Karofsky demanded, looking anxiously around the empty parking lot. "We're not like you!"

Kurt snorted. "Bull. My gaydar is pretty damned accurate." This was a complete lie; he usually had the worst detection skills of anyone he knew. "And it's telling me that there is no way in hell that you two would be so intent on bullying me at every turn for being gay if you weren't afraid that being friendly to me might _out_ you."

Guilt flashed across their faces so quickly that he would have missed it, had he not been watching so closely.

Kurt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been working up a grand plan to trick these two into publicly outing themselves and shifting all the public attention onto them, but the look in that puny little freshman's eyes just now had already told him that he was still going to be the one shoved solidly into the spotlight. Not that he normally minded attention, but this was different. His reputation, he suspected, was about to undergo another dramatic shift. From bullied underdog, to bullying BAMF, to hallowed Dweeb Savior in less than two weeks. Damn it.

Well, why not use his newfound power to his own advantage? When all else fails, be honest, as his dad like to say.

"The really pathetic thing about you guys is that you have absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Everybody knows you're tough and mean and generally not worth messing with, already." They both looked pleased with this assessment until Kurt reminded them, "But now it's going to be all over the school by lunchtime that _this_ so-called Fairy Queen is totally capable of kicking your sorry asses. Some of the jocks and most of the nerds are intimidated by me because I proved to them that I'm a bad-ass under all this fabulousness, but that doesn't make me an asshole. I just acted like one last week to show people that I could. You two are already Grade-A jerks, so what do you have to lose by going public? There is such a thing as strength in numbers, you know. Once the other jocks get used to the change, especially when they figure out that you're committed to each other and not likely to rape them in the showers or something, then the drama will blow over and you'll be totally free to be yourselves."

Azimio was actually nodding his head. Then he caught Karofsky's eye and stopped, folding his bulging arms and trying to look intimidating again. The effect was somewhat ruined by his inability to stand fully upright.

"He's on board," Kurt said, jerking his head toward Azimio but looking at Karofsky. "What do you say, Dave? Time to man up and board the homo-express?"

The hockey player glowered at them both. "You're insane, Hummel. What could possibly make you so sure that I'm a," Kurt glared and he changed his wording, proving just how impressed he really had been by the smaller boy's performance just now, "that I'm like you?"

Kurt had not thought that far ahead. However, it no longer looked like they were out for his blood, so he decided to take the question seriously. Licking his strawberry flavored lips as he considered the matter, he noticed the boys' eyes automatically locking on them. Kurt smiled. Apparently, that special lip gloss was not going to be totally wasted, after all.

Before he could lose his nerve, Kurt seized the moment. Karofsky might be a jerk, but he was an undeniably handsome jerk, and it wasn't as if Kurt had a lot of boys standing in line hoping to be his first gay kiss. Why not get it out of the way? Surging up, he grabbed Dave Karofsky's lantern jaw in both hands and planted one on him.

Karofsky squeaked in surprise and grabbed Kurt's waist, presumably to push him away. Instead, his hands clamped down hard and within a few seconds, he was kissing back. Struggling not to get lost in the sensation, Kurt went with it, enjoying himself thoroughly. Then he pulled back with a sharp intake of breath and grinned at the other boy and at Azimio, who was watching the show with a hungry look that would have told Kurt everything he needed to know if he had not already figured it out.

"And that's how it feels with somebody you don't even care about, Dave," Kurt told him, giving the stunned jock a second quick kiss, then disengaging himself and landing a friendly peck on Azimio's lips as well. "You boys have a nice day, now," he trilled, fluttering his fingers at them as he collected his messenger bag and strode toward the school as quickly as possible.

The second bell rang just as he reached the front steps. He was definitely going to be late to class, but the delay had been more than worth it. He had done not one, but two, good deeds today and he could already feel Puck and Gage's $300.00 burning a hole in his pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

Finding himself intercepted at his locker, Kurt discovered that he was not going to be the only late-comer to Glee practice today. Noah Puckerman and Gabrielle Fox were lying in wait, pouncing on him the moment he crossed the threshold.

"What happened?" Puck demanded without preamble. "When you didn't follow us right away, I was afraid I might have to go back outside and bust some heads."

Kurt grinned. "Why, Noah, I didn't know you cared." He theatrically fluttered his lashes and laughed when the jock punched him in the shoulder, not nearly hard enough to hurt. "I'm fine, and you two owe me three hundred bucks!"

Confusion and suspicion crossed their faces. "The bet was that you had to get another couple together romantically," Gage reminded him.

"Uh, huh," he said, practically singing the two syllables. "And that's exactly what I just did."

"But you were only out there a couple minutes, with Azimio and Karof . . . sky," Puck trailed off, his dark eyes nearly bugging out of his head. "You're shittin' me! Wasn't that just a threat to intimidate those two assholes into laying off the bullying?"

Kurt's laughter rang through the hallway. "Yes! But it turns out I was right about them. They're hot for each other. They're probably skipping class to go make out somewhere, even as we speak." He held out his hand, making a 'gimme' gesture with his fingers.

"No, not until we have more to go on than just your word," Gage said, earning herself an outraged look from Kurt. "Not that I'm accusing you of anything underhanded, but we _are_ talking a lot of money and a month-long makeover here. How can we be sure that you didn't just see what you wanted to see? After all, those two are always hanging out together."

"She has a point," Puck decided, staunchly ignoring the wounded expression on the other boy's face. "I mean, did they come right out and _say_ that they were going to be a couple, or did you maybe witness some lip-lockage?"

Kurt drew himself up, fists planted on his hips. "There was definitely kissing," he declared. Then he sighed and admitted, "But it wasn't with each other."

"Huh?" they chorused.

Kurt's cheeks suddenly turned the same shade as his jeans. "I kissed Karofsky. A big ol' wet one right on the mouth." Their own mouths dropped open. "And as you may have noticed, I'm still alive to tell you about it. He kissed me back and Azimio was looking at us like a starving dog begging for scraps at Thanksgiving dinner. I planted the seed; now all we have to do is watch it grow."

Gage laughed. "Assuming it doesn't mean that Karofsky is hot for _you_ and Azimio now has twice as much reason to pound you into paste."

Kurt looked a little sick. "You don't think so, I mean, not really."

"You never know," Puck teased. "I mean, this was one of your grand Master Plans, which are not exactly guaranteed. Guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

Suddenly looking far less triumphant, Kurt put his bag in his locker and gathered a few items he would need for his morning classes. "Let's go to glee-club," he suggested glumly. "They might be a little mad at me, but at least nobody in there wants to kill me."

When the trio entered the practice room, all conversation stopped. Gage and Puck both patted Kurt's back as they moved to take their seats, and the silence yawned for a moment as Mr. Schuester studied the newly returned counter-tenor then said quietly, "Kurt."

"Mr. Schuester, I want to come back to glee-club and I really need to apologize to you," Kurt said, wondering if the words sounded as much like begging to everyone else as they did to him. Oh, well, he had known that groveling would be in order. He looked around the room. "To all of you."

The other kids all looked at him with varying degrees of interest and even sympathy. Clearly, word had gotten around about what he had been trying to do before. The only one still looking angry at him was Rachel Berry. Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest and she looked as if she was trying to incinerate him with her eyes.

Turning back to Schuester, Kurt said, "I was completely out of line last Thursday and I was totally lying when I said that I didn't need any of you guys, or this club. I do, I need you and I've missed you, and I'm really and truly sorry if I hurt any of you."

The teacher finally cracked a small smile. "I hear you were playing cupid, among other interesting roles. Ever given any thought to joining the drama department, Kurt?"

"I can't, Mr. Shue. Drama meets the same time as Glee and this is where I belong. If you'll have me."

Schuester's smile grew bigger as he turned to face the kids. "What do you say, guys? Do we welcome our black-sheep back into the fold?"

There were grins and murmurs of agreement from everyone except Rachel, who stood and strode forward, her arms still crossed. "You know how crucial it is for every member of Glee to show up for every rehearsal and give their best if we're going to take this year's Sectionals. We can't have a member who might storm out every time they don't like the way things are going."

"You're quitting, then?" he returned dryly. "Does that mean I get all your solos?"

For a moment, Rachel gaped at him. Then suddenly she laughed and flung her arms around him. "Welcome back, Kurt. We missed you! Now, we'd better get back to work before another moment is lost. I'll be happy to catch you up on everything you've missed over the last couple of rehearsals."

Too astonished to do anything else, he laughed. "Thanks, Rachel. I'd appreciate that."

~#~#~#~#~#~

It was not until 3rd period let out that Kurt remembered his problem with Karofsky and Azimio. Gage, Puck, Mercedes and he were all heading back toward their lockers, the former two catching Mercedes up on the events of the morning, when Kurt stopped in his tracks, causing Puck to walk straight into him and nearly knock him flat.

"What the hell, Hummel? Watch where you're," he trailed off, eyebrows climbing toward his nonexistent hairline as he realized what had so thoroughly caught the other boy's attention. "Shit," he declared softly. "There goes a hundred and fifty bucks."

Dave Karofsky and Greg Azimio were standing by the water fountain, conducting an in-depth search for one another's tonsils. Traffic in the crowded hallway had come to a complete stop as everyone simply stood there and watched, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Finally, the two jocks broke apart. Azimio went one direction while Karofsky strode toward the cluster of Glee kids.

Another jock tried to stop Karofsky but got no further than, "What the hell, Karofsky? You've turned into a f-" before a large hammer-like fist flattened him.

"Greg and I are together now, and if you don't like that you can stick your homophobic attitude up your ass and go whine to your mama about it. Got me? If a total gay-wad like Hummel can be open about who he is and still get the respect of the whole school, then why not me? You got a problem with that, Kazinsky?"

From his position on the floor, the other hockey-jock shook his head violently. "No man, like, whatever you want to do."

"That's what I thought," he growled. Continuing toward his goal, he glowered down at the grinning Kurt, scowled, and punched him in the jaw.

Kurt hit the floor like a bag of rocks. "What the hell!" he demanded. "What'd you do that for?"

"Quit being such a pansy, I barely tapped you," the unrepentant jock scoffed. "And _that_ was for convincing Greg and me to man up, but not until _after_ you'd already damaged the goods."

"Oh," Kurt said meekly. "Yeah, sorry about that. He'll be okay by tomorrow, I think."

Accepting the hand Karofsky held out to him, his smile returned when the big teen simply shook hands with him and grunted, "Thanks, Hummel."

"Watch out for Slushies, David!" Mercedes sang out merrily as their enemy continued on his way. Karofsky flipped her off over his shoulder as he rounded the corner. Mercedes just chuckled. "That boy is just stupid if he really thinks one threat is going to get him out of all the revenge plots that half this school is going to start formulating now."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, thoughtfully brushing off his clothes in case any stray dirt had transferred from his unexpected trip to the floor. "Just don't be one of them, okay?"

She pouted. "Why not? Do you know how many times I've had to wash corn syrup out of my weave because of those two?"

"I know, but I don't think I want to encourage the same kind of behavior that's made me miserable for so long. Karofsky and Azimio are still jerks, we're never going to be friends or anything, and I don't owe them any favors, but it'll be better for me in the long run if people can start to accept them."

Mercedes immediately understood his point and gave him a warm hug. "I get it. You're right. I refuse to help those two if somebody else wants to get in a little Slushie revenge, but I won't throw any of my own. I promise."

"Me, too," Gage said, squeezing Kurt's shoulder.

"Me, three," Puck added, reaching into his pocket. "And speaking of owing people things, you did it, Kurt. I don't know how, but you definitely got a new couple together in your own weird-ass way."

Kurt smirked. "That's bad-ass way, thank you very much." He collected a fifty and five twenty dollar bills that were handed over, a little surprised that Puck had had enough faith in him to come prepared for losing his bet.

"I'll have to hit the ATM at lunch-time," Gage told him, shaking her head. "You work fast, kid!"

Kurt simply could not resist the impulse. Feathering the bills he hitched his eyebrows and lowered his voice into the best imitation of evil mad-scientist laughter he could manage. "Never doubt a BAMF with a Master-Plan! After all, this is Dr. Love Industries we're talking about."

Mercedes burst out laughing while the other two just looked disgusted. "Well, don't look now, Doc, but I think you just got added to your own client-list."

"Huh?" he said, confused until Mercedes turned him around to face his locker. Kurt's mouth dropped open. The entire surface had been covered in taped-on roses and gaudy little music-note stickers. As he drew closer, Kurt could see that the flowers, a dozen in all, had clearly been cut out of someone's garden rather than purchased. There were even a couple of bugs on them, for Pete's sake! "What the heck?"

Gage and Puck exchanged an amused look. When he forgot to put on the bad-ass show, Kurt automatically reverted to his normal anti-cussing ways.

Almost afraid, Kurt spun the combination and opened his locker. There was nothing unusual inside except a note. He unfolded it carefully and read it, handing it to Mercedes who read aloud: "To the awesomest guy at McKinley High. Your eyes are bluer than the morning sky. If you will agree to hold my heart. Our love will never be torn apart." She frowned. "A little sappy, but definitely sweet. Who sent it?"

Wide-eyed, Kurt shrugged. "I have no idea." Suddenly his gaze narrowed and irritation took over as he turned on Puck and Gage. "Oh, very funny! I suppose you came and did this while I was in Spanish class, just to screw with me."

"Dude, I don't give roses to other dudes," Puck said firmly. "Much less write crappy poems to them."

"Gage?" Kurt asked doubtfully.

She laughed. "Don't blame me for this. You did it to yourself."

Kurt frowned. "Me? What do you mean? Do you know who left this?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," she said, glancing toward the steps and drawing their attention to the same little brown-eyed boy that Kurt had rescued from the morning dumpster-toss. He blushed and waved shyly when he realized that Kurt was looking at him, then turned and ran away before anyone could even try to talk to him.

Reading the note again, Kurt slumped against his locker with wide eyes and a shocked face. "Holy crap! That kid has a crush on me."

Mercedes grinned. "Yep, and if these flowers are any indication, I'm guessing it's a bad one. Who is he anyway?"

Looking a little guilty, Kurt admitted, "I don't know. I can't even remember seeing him before today."

Puck broke out laughing. "Man, you'd better keep your distance from the Puckster. I'm not looking to switch teams and you're starting to scare me. First you convert the caveman twins and then a couple of hours later you've got your very own Twinkie!"

"Don't say that," Kurt snapped. "The kid is probably just confused. Like, maybe he's just hero-worshiping me because I protected him from those bullies this morning. I know how that feels. After all, the crush I had on Finn last year started the exact same way, and we all know how well _that_ turned out."

"Yeah, but the difference here is that you're gay," Gage pointed out mercilessly. "And everybody knows it, so that boy just might think he stands a chance with you."

Mercedes poked him in the side. "Yeah, Kurt. What are the odds of a straight boy deciding to crush on his hero and leave him flowers and love-notes? I think you got a real shot."

"Oh, _shut up_," he ordered, blushing furiously. "He can't be more than 14! I'm almost 17, and that's just creepy."

"I've dated freshmen girls," Puck pointed out, leering as he said, "More than just dated, if you know what I mean." He flinched and yelped, "**Ow**!" when all three of his companions simultaneously smacked him on wherever patch of flesh they could reach.

Kurt sighed. "Thank you for so firmly proving my point, Noah. I'll just have to ignore this and hope he loses interest."

"Oh, yeah," Mercedes scoffed. "Cause that plan _always_ works."

The hallway rang with the soft metallic thud of a well-coiffed head repeatedly banging itself against a locker door.

The End

**Please review if you enjoyed the story. I'd appreciate it.**

**Author's Note: The humorous saga of Kurt and his freshman admirer is being continued in "Crush Object". Thanks for inviting me to come play in your sandbox, DJ! It was fun.**


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